You Think You Know Someone
by SarcasmMyAntidrug
Summary: Arthur's got a sneaking suspicion about his manservant. But as we all know, what Arthur thinks is hardly ever the case... Luckily for him.
1. You Think You Know Someone

**You Think You Know Someone...**

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Arthur was, to put it mildly, a little upset. And that was putting it very mildly indeed. His manservant had not shown up _again_ that morning, for what had to have been the third time that week and Arthur was quickly becoming more than a little annoyed. So, after counting to 10 in his head more than once while sitting in his bed waiting for his useless excuse of a servant to come and do his _job_ of dressing him for the day, Arthur had pulled himself out of bed, got dressed himself –with _no_ difficulty at all thank you very much- and began his furious march down to the Court Physician's chambers. The other servants wandering the halls gave their prince a wide berth and shot knowing looks at each other behind his back as he stalked down the corridor, silent fury practically sizzling in his wake.

Barging into the physician's lodgings he took a quick survey of the room and noted that Gaius seemed to have already left for somewhere. This made Arthur stop for a minute to take some newly imagined possibilities into consideration. Apparently there was some ailment going around in the lower town. Gaius had been working off his feet for the past week or so trying to contain it. Perhaps he had started taking Merlin along with him for help….

This plausible explanation was immediately shattered as he saw one of the many serving girls –and quite a pretty one at that- exit what he _knew_ to be his manservant's bedroom. She was a bit too occupied with humming happily and fixing her somewhat rumpled looking dress to notice the prince until she was halfway across the room and he had cleared his throat rather loudly. She started in surprise before whirling around to face him, her shocked and suspiciously happy expression melted into one of mortified embarrassment. She blushed furiously and, bowing low with some incomprehensibly murmured apologies, dashed out the door before he could get a word in himself. Not that he would have been able to of course –get a word in, that is- as he was too busy being completely bewildered. Dazedly, he looked from where he'd caught the last glimpse of the girl before she disappeared, to his manservant's bedroom door, and back again, piecing two and two together. Still somewhat bemused, he found himself walking out of the Physician's quarters and back to his own chambers totally immersed in thought –a dangerous pastime on all accounts- and completely forgetting to berate his servant for whatever it was he had done wrong this time.

*

By the end of the day, Arthur had decided there was no other explanation: Merlin had a sister.

Because honestly, who else, besides a mother would be leaving _Merlin_'s room at such an ungodly hour, after having obviously spent the night. Well, a lover perhaps. But this was _Merlin_ they were talking about here. Just thinking the words 'lover' and 'Merlin' in the same sentence was a feat in of itself. Well, maybe not recently, given Arthur's somewhat vivid dreams he'd been having for the past while concerning the younger man. But really, even if it was _remotely _possible that the gangly servant _had_ gotten lucky, Merlin was hardly one to bed a girl in the room right next to the one where his guardian and mentor was sleeping. Thus, the sister theory was the only possible explanation.

Arthur was just pondering this at dinner when his father spoke, very uncharacteristically for him, to the servant in question.

"You, boy. Melrin, was it? Tell me, you share Gaius' quarters, do you not? What has happened with my dear friend? I haven't seen him in quite a while." Merlin, looking quite shocked –whether from being addressed personally by the King at a public dinner, or due to the fact that Uther had almost actually remembered his name- shook his head.

"I'm afraid I don't know myself, your Majesty. Gaius has taken to living in the lower town until this outbreak is cured. I have not seen him in over a week." He answered. Uther nodded thoughtfully before turning back to his meal, indicating an end to the conversation. Arthur, on the other hand, continued staring at Merlin until the younger man shot him a quizzical look back. Arthur turned back around and sipped his wine, contemplating. So Gaius wasn't in the next room then… that still didn't make the sister theory any less possible, he thought to himself before downing the last of his goblet in one gulp.

*

The next morning, Arthur was particularly enraged. Merlin hadn't shown up _yet again_. And his blasted hangover from all the wine he had consumed last night was doing nothing to lighten his mood. So, still in the same clothes he'd had on last night –Merlin obviously hadn't bothered to undress him when putting him to bed- he made his way sourly down to get a pain reliever for his headache, and at the same time fetch his increasingly annoying servant. He had just walked into the Physician's quarters for the second time in as many days, when he saw yet another serving girl –this one different from the last, though in no way any less attractive- exiting Merlin's room with a wide smile on her face. Which promptly dropped at the sight of Arthur standing not ten feet in front of her.

"Oh! Your highness! I didn't think you'd- I mean I was just- Excuse me." She stuttered, before she too dashed out the door. Arthur, for his part, had finally come to the rather obvious conclusion that apparently Merlin _might not_ have a sister after all, and decided to confront the young man once and for all. Famous last words, those last four are.

Arthur pushed the door to Merlin's bedroom open on silent hinges, and immediately wished he had not. For there, with his back to the door, in all his naked glory, was his manservant pulling on a pair of rather worn breeches.

Arthur's eyes widened, taking in the sight before him, before realizing the implications of what he was doing and how Merlin might turn around at any second to see him practically drooling on his doorstep, and he let the door fall shut in his face. In a daze, he walked back to Gaius' workplace, somehow managed to locate a bottle of the hangover potion he had been down there for originally and dashed out, holding it conspicuously over his groin as he basically ran –in a very princely manner of course- all the way back to his chambers.

*

Merlin came in to commence his duties not an hour later, looking for all the world like the happiest sop in the kingdom. Arthur, who had been contemplating that morning's earlier encounter, deepened the scowl that had found residence over his features since having started said contemplating, and barked at the smiling manservant to go polish his armor, walk his dogs, do his laundry, clean his chambers, lick –I mean shine- his boots, sweep his fireplace, change his bed-sheets, and lastly –and it was an absolute _order_ that it be done last- muck out his stables. There was no hag in all of Camelot desperate enough to sleep with someone who smelt of horse dung, Arthur was sure of that.

Unfortunately he had been wrong yet again, it seemed, as he had once more gone searching for his manservant the following morning, and once again found a very satisfied-turned-mortified-looking serving girl leaving the country-bumpkin's room instead. Arthur had honestly just had about enough. So, sitting himself down in a chair facing Merlin's bedroom, he waited for the manservant to come and have out with him. Not two minutes later, however, yet _another_ serving girl dashed into the Physician's rooms and, taking no notice of the prince, knocked breathlessly at Merlin's door. Arthur could only stare as a faint 'come in' was heard though the wood of the door and the girl practically _threw_ herself into the room.

"Merlin, thank God! I just _had_ to see you-" whatever else she said was cut off as the door was closed shut behind her. Arthur continued to stare at the door, his heart hurting more than he'd thought it ever could, before he resignedly got up and started making his way back out. A voice from behind stopped him.

"Arth- I mean- sire? What are you doing here?" the prince turned around to see Merlin, the nameless serving girl less than half a step behind him, looking at him curiously. Arthur's princely mask came up almost automatically.

"Looking for _you_ obviously. You know, this is the fifth day this week that you have not been upstairs to attend me. Do you not recall how it is your _job_ to wake and dress me every morning." He laughed sharply and without humor, "But then, I suppose you'd know more about taking clothes off than you would about putting them on, wouldn't you?" Merlin's mere curiosity turned to full-on confusion at this point.

"What?"

Arthur laughed again, this one colder even than the last. "Oh, don't think I don't know about all those pretty maids leaving your room every morning now that Gaius isn't here to keep an eye on you." His words, no matter how hard he attempted to make them sound like light mocking, came out more accusing than anything. Merlin still looked ridiculously lost, while the serving maid's eyes widened at what the prince was implying.

"Oh no, sire! It's not like that! I-" she was silenced by a look from Arthur, before she turned and said quietly to Merlin "We'll talk later. I'll just leave you two alone then…" before she too bolted out the door.

The two men's gazes never left the other's as Merlin tried to figure out _what_ exactly his liege was talking about, and as Arthur tried to keep his anger and hurt under control.

"So, been enjoying yourself while Gaius is away, have you? Been having a bit of fun?" sneered Arthur. Perhaps he'd have to work on his anger-management tactics sometime soon. Merlin cocked his head to the side in a way that almost made Arthur want to go 'awww' like a little girl with her first puppy, but he restrained himself.

"Sire, I still have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." The warlock replied. "What 'fun' do you seem to be so convinced I'm having?" Arthur's lapse in judgment at Merlin's momentary cuteness was replaced by cold hard outrage. First, he had the nerve to blow off his duties for some pretty girls, and _then_ he had the audacity to _lie_ about it?

"I don't know how things are done in Ealdor _Mer_lin, but I'd prefer it if you _weren't_ sleeping around with every serving girl in the castle." He said bluntly. Merlin's confusion was replaced by absolute shock, followed soon after by amusement.

"Why? Am I stealing all the good ones from you _sire_?" He joked, grinning and crossing his arms over his chest. Arthur was not as amused as Merlin had thought he'd be. After all, this _was_ a joke… right?

"I don't give a damn about the serving girls" Arthur snapped back angrily, causing Merlin to stand up straighter in response. "I just don't want you sleeping around with them."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "You have nothing to worry about then sire, because I haven't been sleeping around with anyone." He said seriously. This time it was Arthur's turn to cross his arms over his chest.

"I don't believe you." He said childishly, pout and all. Merlin sighed in exasperation.

"All those serving girls you've seen leaving my room where all just trying to get my opinions on how best to throw _your_ twentieth birthday celebration. And I must say, that would make for some incredibly _dull_ pillow talk." Arthur uncrossed his arms in disbelief.

"So you haven't…" he couldn't even finish. Merlin shook his head in mock pity at the prince and began walking towards the doors, while the blonde stayed rooted to the spot. Merlin stopped just beside Arthur before reaching out a hand and patting his cheek like a child.

"Besides," he sighed airily, "girls aren't exactly my type." He grinned before walking out the door, leaving a still stunned Arthur in his wake.

"Girls aren't his…" Arthur repeated in a murmur, before "Merlin?! Were you serious?! MERLIN!"

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**Author's Note: Okay! First official slash ever! although, I suppose it's a little on the tame side compared to some of the stories up here. Either way, hope you liked it. **

**For those of you who are reading my other story, I haven't abandonned it or anything, I'm just waiting for inspiration to strike. This just so happens to be what my imagination came up with instead. Because you know, Arthur always seems to be the one with all the girls. Why couldn't Merlin have some of the fun too. Even if just in Arthur's imagination in this case. Anyways, once again, hope you like it, and reviews are always greatly appreciated. **

**Thanks!**


	2. But Do You Ever Really?

**...But Do You Really Ever?**

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Arthur had never liked feeling guilty. It meant he had been wrong about something. And Princes were _never_ supposed to be wrong. Well, at least _he_ wasn't. He couldn't really speak for the other dunderheaded nobles that often visited Camelot. Actually it was all thanks to one of those insignificant, pompous asses that he was feeling guilty in the first place.

It had started as any normal welcoming ceremony did. Arthur had arrived barely on time, earning a disapproving glance from his father who otherwise ignored him and returned to staring at the hall doors where the visiting King Hammond of Sutherland and his son Aidan swaggered through seconds later. Prince Aidan, it turned out, was a rather dashingly attractive lad –although no where _near_ as dashing as Arthur of course- and immediately captured the interested glances of many of the court ladies, as well as the serving girls, with his tall, dark and handsome physique. Like most princes, Aidan politely ignored the appraising glances until the introductions were over and supper was served, after which he simply preened under them.

His smug smirk was just starting to get annoying to Arthur when he saw Merlin slip in –late as usual- and he heaved a sigh of relief. At least he'd have someone to slander the other royal with later. The manservant's entrance did not go by entirely unnoticed however, as when Arthur turned back to face the table, he saw Prince Aidan watching Merlin fixedly, his smirk long gone. The intensity of Aidan's gaze was disconcerting to say the least, and apparently the reason for it was painstakingly obvious to all but the man in question -who had yet to notice- and Arthur, since the young ladies who had been vying for the dark prince's attention earlier on now sighed disappointedly and returned their attention to others in the party. This confused Arthur even more, and he surprisingly found himself asking Morgana what had just happened. Maybe he'd had more to drink than he'd realized. Morgana must have thought so as well as she raised a dark eyebrow at him in mock pity.

"The young ladies have given up trying to catch the young Prince's attention because it is quite obvious he would rather be entertained by other company." She affirmed, before sipping her own wine delicately. Arthur stared at her in confusion.

"Other company? What is _that_ supposed to… you mean… _Merlin_?!" he demanded incredulously. Morgana must've been a little too into her own drink as well if she thought so because _that_ just couldn't be possible. First off, the boy was hardly attractive. Well, maybe he _was_ when he had that goofy grin on, or when he was looking decidedly puzzled. Or when he bent over right in front of him to pick up something Arthur had dropped on the floor _completely_ by accident. And secondly, Merlin was a _manservant_, quite possibly the farthest station away from that of a princes' rank besides the royal chamber-pot cleaner. But thirdly, and most importantly, Merlin was _his_ manservant. There was _no way_ that _creep_ Prince _Aidan_ was going lay a single hand on him.

Lost in his musings, Arthur did not notice as Merlin, having only heard his name, rushed forward to top up his already half-full wineglass. Therefore, he was unable to call upon his 'lightning fast' reflexes to help him dodge the splash of wine aimed directly for him when his clumsy excuse of a manservant tripped on his way over. The hall fell deadly silent as Arthur sat stock still in shock and dripping with rather expensive red wine, and Merlin picked himself gingerly off the floor. The manservant looked around the room, and with growing apprehension turned to follow everyone's gazes. His eyes widened almost fearfully as he took in Arthur's drenched form.

"I am _so_ sorry sire! It was an accident! I didn't- I mean- I…" he trailed off as Arthur turned his head to face him. His face was emotionless, but his eyes were blazing in barely contained rage and humiliation.

Merlin flinched back as the blonde prince opened his mouth, assumedly to yell at him, but all he said was, "Please excuse my manservant and I, my Lords, as it would seem I am in need of a change of clothes." Uther nodded, a small hint of pride shining through his otherwise hard features at his son's dignified handling of the situation. Arthur rose and bowed stiffly to both his father and King Hammond before walking with long, swift strides out of the room, his eyes set straight ahead. Merlin stumbled gracelessly behind him in concern –for Arthur's well-being as well as his own. Neither said anything even after the door to Arthur's bedchamber was shut firmly behind them with an ominous thud. The gangly manservant immediately rushed off to put another outfit together for the prince, who was staring into the dark fireplace and taking deep, calming breaths through his nostrils. Needless to say, they weren't working.

Merlin had always been clumsy -exceedingly so- but never had that clumsiness caused Arthur as much anger as he was feeling now. His thoughts had been focusing around Merlin quite a lot recently, and it had only gotten worse after the week before his twentieth birthday celebration; when he had seen all those serving girls leaving his manservant's room in the early mornings; when it had been _him,_ for once, to walk in on the other man stark naked after one of the afore-mentioned maids had left; when Merlin had told him after his little misunderstanding that girls 'weren't exactly his type' anyways. That week had brought up more emotions in Arthur than he had ever hoped to experience in a _year_ let alone in a matter of days. He had never caught up to Merlin after that –the brunet having somehow disappeared while Arthur tried chasing him down - and they had never brought it up again. But then Arthur had started thinking –an exploit that had proven to be rather dangerous in the past- and realized that all those serving girls leaving Merlin's room had, in fact, been just that: girls. What if Merlin liked older women instead? It was certainly plausible. The man had always gotten along suspiciously well with the older cooks and laundry-women. Merlin probably didn't like men any more than… Uther did. It scared Arthur how much this thought upset him. And now this _Prince Aidan_ had to waltz into their lives with an obvious interest in _his_ manservant and complicate his feelings further. And to top it all off, he had been drenched in wine. Wine that most likely would _not_ come out of his favourite doublet that had somehow become such only after Merlin mentioned it brought out the colour of his eyes and made him look 'quite dashing actually'.

There it was again: Merlin. It always came back to Merlin, didn't it? Well Arthur was getting sick of it. He was a _man_ dammit! And if _Prince Aidan_ had decided he preferred the company of other men, then that was _fine by him_, but he goddamn well liked women, and no misleading thoughts or _feelings_ he had for his _manservant_ were going to change that. Arthur punched the wall in front of him in frustration when he wasn't even able to convince himself that this was true.

"Arthur?" Merlin's voice -etched with worry and concern and something else that Arthur _refused to believe_ might have been affection- woke him from his thoughts and he turned his head to face the younger man. His anger returned tenfold.

"And what right do you have to call me by my name?" Arthur knew he had had too much to drink at the feast, but he still could not stop the words from coming, could not stop himself from taking all his pent-up frustration out on his manservant; his friend. "You useless excuse for a manservant! You spill wine all down my front, humiliate me –in front of visiting nobles no less- and then have the _nerve_ to address me as an equal?! Well we're _not_ equals Merlin, and it's about time you realized that!" Merlin flinched back more with each word, as if every syllable were like a separate blow. Arthur grabbed the clothes the manservant had pillowed on his outstretched arms and stomped towards the bed, taking his own soaking clothes off as he went.

"And while you're learning exactly _where_ your place is around here, why don't you get someone to teach you how to act like a proper servant as well! You're dismissed." Arthur ordered as he pulled the fresh doublet on over his head himself.

Merlin took a step forward, his eyes full of hurt and confusion. "But sire-"

"_Now_ servant. Come back when you've learned to do your job properly." Arthur commanded, never tuning around to meet the other man's eyes.

He felt more than heard the door slam shut behind Merlin as he left, and waited at least a couple minutes before heading out the door himself, his cool, princely façade never leaving as he walked back into the entrance hall. By this point most of the guests were too drunk themselves to notice when the Prince stumbled on his return to his seat, and those who weren't passed it off as Arthur having had too much to drink himself (which _was_ true really) and thus could never have guessed it was actually because the young royal had spotted Merlin on the other side of the hall in deep discussion with Prince Aidan's own personal assistant. Determined not to let his agitation show though the new, shallow cracks in his mask of indifference, Arthur busied himself with furthering his inebriated state by drinking his weight in whatever alcohol was being served. And if he just so happened to drink a little faster every time Prince Aidan smiled at, or talked to or –hey! Don't touch my Merlin!- then it was _entirely _coincidental.

*

The next morning Arthur woke to the sound of a bird chirping outside his window. Now if only his crossbow were nearby so he could _shoot it_. Unfortunately (for him at least) his crossbow was with the rest of his hunting gear in the armory… or the stable… or wherever it was Merlin put his hunting gear, and so he had no choice but to suffer through the unbearable _screaming_ of what should've been a soothing melody. He buried his head in his pillows just in time to block out the sound of someone knocking at the door. That was odd… Merlin never- ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. Arthur slammed his head face-first into his pillows as the memory of last night came flooding in. So it must be a new servant at the door then. There was no way Merlin would come back here after everything he'd said. Arthur couldn't decide whether to cry or scream, but eventually settled for the latter as it was decidedly more manly, and he could get away with it by reforming it into a dignified –if slightly louder than necessary- command of 'come in'.

The servant entered silently and opened all the curtains, thoughtfully excluding the ones beside the Prince's bed and saving him from being blinded by the morning sun. He heard the cupboards being opened and the rustling of clothes, so he knew he only had a few seconds before he would have to get up to be dressed. What he did _not_ expect was the voice that asked him to do so.

"Shall I assist in dressing you now, milord?" asked Merlin, without the slightest hint of sarcasm laced in his words. "Or would you prefer to eat breakfast first?"

Arthur's head shot up so fast he had to close his eyes for well over a minute before his vision stopped spinning enough for him to confirm that yes, it indeed _was_ Merlin that had just asked him _politely_ whether he would prefer dressing or breakfast first. He rubbed a free hand across his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Because not only was Merlin being polite, but he was actually wearing the standard serving outfit that Arthur had never _once_ seen him wear before now.

"Merlin?" he demanded incredulously at the sight.

His manservant answered, staring at a spot on his headboard just over his right shoulder, with a very humble-sounding "Yes, your highness?" that had Arthur growing increasingly disturbed, and gaping for some time trying to think of what might be appropriate to say in this sort of situation.

"_What_ are you wearing?" his lips blurted out treacherously. He was quite certain that had _not_ been what anyone would call appropriate. But perhaps the slight would cause Merlin to revert back to his old self and come up with a witty come-back so Arthur would know everything was back to normal.

"My uniform Your Majesty. If it displeases you, I can fix it immediately." Merlin responded with yet again, only polite modesty in his voice. It was enough to make Arthur sputter.

"Well… no, it's fine… I suppose. But… what about your usual clothes?" he saw Merlin's mouth harden slightly –barely enough that he wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't so in-tune with his manservant's movements.

"They are unfit to be worn in the presence of nobility such as yourself milord. I would not want to cause embarrassment to your or your household. Would you like me to dress you in your clothes now, sire?" Merlin's voice had reached monotony by this point, and it worried Arthur more than the polite stuff ever would.

"Merlin, are you… alright?" he asked hesitantly, stepping out of his bed and coming around to feel the brunet's forehead for signs of fever. Merlin stepped back only enough to bow low.

"I am perfectly healthy milord. You honor me with your concern, though it is unnecessary." He said with his back still bent. While straightening up he added "Shall I dress you now milord?"

It was only then that Arthur realized he was completely naked. He blushed upon the discovery and nodded silently. Merlin set about dressing him with an efficiency the prince noted could only be from constant practice, though why the manservant thought to only apply it now was as much a mystery to him as Merlin's new attitude. A sudden thought struck him as the servant finished up and resumed his position in front of him, staring above his right shoulder.

"Does this have anything to do with last night? Because I was really drunk and I never really meant what I said. I didn't think you'd take it seriously." he demanded, moving his head in an attempt to meet Merlin's gaze who was trying vainly to avoid such an occurrence- reasons unbeknownst to Arthur.

"I don't know what you're talking about sire." He replied, lowering his gaze where Arthur couldn't match it.

"That! That right there! You never call me 'sire' unless it's_ heavily_ laced with sarcasm." He accused. Merlin, however, did not waver.

"I apologize for my past actions milord. They were disrespectful and not worthy someone of your standing. I shall be sure to have the task-master punish me heavily for it when I report to him later." Arthur gaped at him bewildered.

"Well you don't have to do _that_. I'd say I deserve a little telling off once in a while. I've come to expect it from you." He confessed. Merlin's head raised a fraction of an inch, but he kept his gaze on his boots.

"Whatever you say sire." He said, with such genuine meekness it made the prince want to scream. He settled for grabbing Merlin by the shoulders and slamming him against one of the bedposts.

"Whatever I say hmmm? So if I told you to undress and go lay on my bed so I could have my way with you, what would you do then?" he demanded, his eyes blazing in sudden fury. He was pleased to see Merlin's breathing become heavier and a blush paint his beautifully defined cheekbones. But still his servant –his _friend_- did not meet his gaze.

"Then it would be my duty to do as you ordered and please you to the best of my abilities." Arthur snapped back as if he'd taken a blow. Hard.

"Duty? Ordered? I may have wanted you in my bed for months Merlin, but I thought you of all people would know that I'd never order you into it, or expect you to do it because of your 'duty'." He whispered, his anger fading to be replaced with hurt and betrayal. How could Merlin ever think something of him? He looked away, watching dust flecks glimmer in the sunlight pouring through the window when Merlin stayed quiet…. Too quiet. He couldn't even hear the other man's breathing. Worried, he turned his head back sharply to be met with wide, disbelieving azure eyes.

"You… want me… in your bed?" the warlock asked slowly, disbelievingly. Arthur's eyes widened as he realized exactly what he had just admitted to.

"I- no! Yes! Only if you- oh sod it." He sighed, defeated. And fell heavily back onto his bed. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to. I'd certainly understand if you didn't."

Merlin had yet to move from where Arthur had thrown him against the bedpost earlier. The prince guessed it might have been due to shock. He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable sound of the door slamming behind Merlin on his way out. But… it never came. Instead he felt an unsteady hand ghost across his knee.

"Arthur…" that simple word, one he had longed to hear since Merlin had apparently taken it upon himself to never speak again since the night before, was enough to make him lose all control. He sat up quickly and grabbed the arm attached to the hand on his knee, pulling the manservant down on top of him in a ferocious hug. Of course, a passionate kiss would have been preferred, but he wasn't sure Merlin was quite ready for that yet. Damn his new found sensitiveness!

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean a thing I said yesterday. It was that insufferable idiot _Aidan_." He spat the other prince's name into Merlin's shoulder as the warlock leaned back slightly to hear what he was saying.

"_Prince _Aidan? What does _he_ have to do with anything?" the brunet demanded incredulously staring down at Arthur in confusion. The blonde pouted and leaned forward to rest his head on Merlin's chest, inhaling deeply, before raising his head again, but keeping his eyes on the Pendragon family crest on Merlin's shirt.

"The prat was perving on you all through dinner. It made me jealous –and if you tell anyone I said that I _will_ kill you- and it scared me. I'm not supposed to feel jealous over my _manservant_. I didn't _want_ to be jealous. But I was. Because I realized that somehow, between the time it took for you to go from being my manservant to my friend, you suddenly jumped ahead to become something _more_ than that. Something more than what I was willing to admit. So I tried pushing you away last night. And it worked. Until you came in this morning doing exactly what I had told you to do the _one_ time I hadn't really meant it. It killed me to see that I had turned you into any other servant, and I knew then that I wouldn't be able to stand you being anything more or less than what you are Merlin; annoying, clumsy, witty, sorcerer, manservant, hilarious, perfect-" Arthur's list of all Merlin's -redeeming?- qualities was cut short by the warlock's hand over his mouth.

"What?! You know?!" he demanded, shocked and more than a little scared. Arthur's brow furrowed in annoyance as he raised his eyes for the first time since beginning his little speech and swatted Merlin's hand away with his own before returning it to its rightful place on the warlock's hip.

"Know what?" he pouted. He had been on a roll there, why had he been stopped by anything other than a kiss?

"That I'm a… sorcerer." Merlin whispered the last word apprehensively. Arthur frowned. Was that it?

"What? Of course I knew? Was it supposed to be a secret?" Merlin's blush was answer enough. Arthur chuckled lightly before pulling Merlin's head down for a short kiss.

"You're hopeless." He murmured fondly, pulling away only slightly while keeping his hand on the manservant's neck. Merlin pouted playfully.

"I am not! I became the perfect servant overnight for you! I mean just think of all that time I wasted practicing with Prince Aidan when you didn't even want a perfect servant in the first place." He whined. Arthur's smile disappeared instantly.

"You practiced _what_ with Aidan?" he demanded. Merlin grinned before grabbing Arthur's face lightly in his hand and pulling the prince up for another kiss.

"Just kidding. I just practiced proper servant protocol with his own manservant. Honestly, have you ever tried dressing someone else in a royally-befitting manner before? It took me almost all night to get that prince-worthy."

"You practiced… dressing him? All night?" growled Arthur. Merlin remained unfazed as he hopped off Arthur's lap and gathered the prince's laundry, a wide smile on his face.

"You really are rather cute when you're jealous you know." he threw over his shoulder as he walked out the door, leaving Arthur sputtering in his wake.

"I am not _cute_! _Nor_ am I jealous! Do you hear me Merlin?! MERLIN!"

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**Author's Note: Okay, so this really was only supposed to be a one-shot, but i just couldn't leave it where it was. Especially with some people asking me to continue it. I'm totally flattered by all your reviews, by the way. I love them all and I'm glad you all liked my first chapter. **

**Just to mention, I have not seen anything from the second season I hear is now playing due to the fact that I live in Canada, and don't have cable or satellite. Ergo, I don't get any British channels. Except for some minimal British programming on TVO. And even then it's usually just Midsomer Murders. Good show actually. So to get back to the point, if I made any errors or... inconsistencies -NOT including Arthur/Gwen hooking up because even _I_ know that much- please forgive me. Also, sorry if anyone is too OOC. I tried my best.**

**Anyways, to finish off, this chapter _will_ be the last for this story. Hope it doesn't disappoint too much. And thanks again to all who review/alert/favourited this. It really means alot. Love you all!**

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